Fire and Ice
by the yellow canary
Summary: She is fire and he is ice. When Sherlock Holmes meets Angelina Lopez, will he get burnt? Sherlock/OC
1. Chapter 1

Fire and Ice

_She is fire and he is ice. When Sherlock Holmes meets Angelina Lopez, will he get burnt? Sherlock/OC_

1.

"Aren't you going to get that?" John asked as Sherlock's phone once again vibrated, the sound much louder due to it's place on the desk. Sherlock ignored him, yet again, and continued playing the violin with a frown on his face. "Who is it?" John asked and was of course ignored.

Five minutes later, the phone vibrated and John rolled his eyes, standing up and picking up the Blackberry, catching Sherlock's attention.

"Put. That. Phone. Down." John turned around and went crosseyed, looking at the end of the violin's bow which was almost touching his nose.

"Why are you ignoring whoever is texting you? You never ignore a text!" John says, handing Sherlock the phone. Sherlock raised an eyebrow at the text he had received before turning around - quite dramatically in John's opinion - to walk into his room. John rolled his eyes and sat back down, picking up the newspaper and reading an article before Sherlock returned, fully dressed.

"Come along John!" He called over his shoulder as he grabbed his coat and scarf and heading to the stairs, leaving John to hurriedly run after him.

The pair leave 221B Baker Street, and rather than calling a taxi, like John expected, Sherlock stood still with his hands in his pockets and a bored expression on his face.

"Sorry, am I missing something here? I thought we had a case." John said confusedly and Sherlock looks at him from the corner of his eye, a smirk on his lips.

"We do." Sherlock says in a mysterious voice, something which annoyed John but before he could reply, a familiar black car pulled up in front of them.

To John's surprise, Sherlock immediately got into the back of the car and left the door open for John to belatedly get in the car. John looked at Sherlock with a questioning look before smiling at the pretty dark haired girl beside Sherlock.

"Where are we going?" John whispered to Sherlock who looked down at him in confusion.

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked and John rolled his eyes at the self proclaimed genius.

"Not really, no." He says and Sherlock scoffs.

"Ordinary people." He whispered to himself. "So simple, must have such an easy life not being me." He says but didn't reply to John until the doctor coughed to get his attention. "To see my darling brother" Sherlock drawled and looked in front of him, his mind going a mile a minute as he wondered just why Mycroft wanted to see him.

_*Sherlock* _

"Ah, Sherlock. Lovely to see you." Mycroft Holmes walked forward with his arms raised as if to embrace his younger brother.

"Yes, I'm sure it is." Sherlock replied, not looking at his brother but instead choosing to look around the office they had been brought to, deducing as much as he could as his eyes roamed over the room.

"And Doctor Watson. I trust Sherlock has been treating you okay." Mycroft says, baiting his brother who scoffed as he took a seat on one of the chairs in front of the desk.

"As well as he treats anyone." John replied with a smirk, sitting in the seat beside Sherlock who was leaning back in his chair as he would back at home.

"I was under the impression you wanted to talk about a case, not how I have been treating my flatmate, even though it is none of your concern." Sherlock says and Mycroft chuckles.

"As impatient as always." He comments but picks up a beige file, handing it over to Sherlock who opened it and pulled out the papers inside. "Angelina Lopez. Ever heard of her?" Sherlock looked at the papers, John leaning over his shoulder. The first piece of paper was filled with a picture of of a dark skinned girl walking through a busy street, a phone to her ear and a smile on her face. Sherlock immediately knew that the girl was something special, unable to explain who she was but knowing that Mycroft was interested in her made Sherlock all the more determined to know who she was.

"Never." Sherlock admitted, putting the paper to the bottom if the pile and seeing a close up picture of the girl. He knew that John was interested in her, judging by the sudden hitch in his breathing. He narrowed his eyes at the picture: longer eyelashes than an average woman and smooth skin, meaning that her appearance was very important to her; expensive phone, meaning that she had a good job and was willing to spend it on the latest technology and cared about what people thought about her; large smile which was obviously fake, she had a job where she pretended, an actress maybe.

"Angelina Lopez is the sneakiest, cheating and most meddling woman I have had the pleasure to come across." Mycroft commented, sitting in his chair behind the desk and raising an eyebrow at Sherlock. "You two would get along very well." He smirked and Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"So is she a concern of the government, or what?" John asked and Mycroft looked up at the ceiling with a sigh.

"Sherlock..." Mycroft said and Sherlock looked down at the picture again.

"She's hard to control and is free from the government. They want her back where they can say what she can and can't do. She knows something that no one is supposed to know." Sherlock says, raising his eyes to look at Mycroft who was frowning.

"She's reckless, impulsive and has power. Not a good combination." Mycroft said and Sherlock smirked.

"I'm starting to like this girl." He said with a slight smile and Mycroft raised an eyebrow.

"You would." Mycroft replied and John looked between the brothers.

"So what? You want Sherlock to get her under the government's thumb again?" John asked and Mycroft nodded.

"Exactly." Mycroft nodded.

"And why should I?" Sherlock asked. "I have other cases, people to help, serial killers to find. Why should I try and get one girl to help you?" Sherlock asks and Mycroft smirked, leaning forward in his chair.

"Because she's a puzzle, Sherlock." Mycroft said. "And we both know you can't resist a puzzle."

_*Sherlock* _

"He's on his way." Bright lips turned into a smile which revealed white teeth, contrasting with her skin.

"Of course he is. As if he could resist someone like me." She says, sitting in front of a vanity mirror and pushing her hair over her shoulder.

"I presume you want me to send you pictures. I know how you don't trust me." The man replied from the other side of the phone and she chuckled in reply.

"Oh, Mycroft, you know me well." She says and ends the call, immediately receiving pictures of the younger Holmes entering and leaving Mycroft's office.

"See you soon, Mr Holmes." She says to herself before standing up. "Maria!" She shouts with her Spanish accent coming out, walking out of the room. "We have a client arriving in thirty minutes! Do make sure he is ready to receive my usual welcome!" She shouts and looks down at the phone in her hand.

_Ready when you are, Mr Holmes_

_AL x _


	2. Chapter 2

2.

_Ready when you are, Mr Holmes_

_AL x_

Looking down at his phone, Sherlock had to admit that Miss Angelina Lopez was turning out to be a puzzle indeed.

"Care to tell me what's so interesting about that phone?" John's voice broke through Sherlock's thoughts and he frowned at the doctor.

"Nothing." He replies quickly. Too quickly in John's opinion.

"Yeah, sure." John said with a smile, trying not to laugh as he turned away from Sherlock and looked out the window and at the dark street outside. "How are we going to do this then?" He asked and Sherlock looked at him in confusion.

"Ring the doorbell. What else are we going to do?" He says and John frowns, turning to look out the window again as the car slows to a stop outside a large house. As John paid the driver, Sherlock got out the car and looked over the house, noting the lack of lights shining through the windows which contradicted the text he had received not long ago. With a frown, he jumped up the steps leading to the door and rang the doorbell, wondering what game she was playing.

Almost at once, the door was opened and an elderly woman opened the door with an expectant look on her face.

"Sherlock Holmes, I presume." She said in a thick Spanish accent and Sherlock nodded as John walked up behind him. "She is waiting for you." She says and turns on her heels, walking further into the house.

"Should we follow her?" John whispered and Sherlock nodded, taking a step forward and looking around the luxurious and modern decoration which was very different to the small and cluttered flat where the two men lived.

"Of course. Our hostess is waiting." Sherlock says and walks after the maid with John following, shutting the door after him with a roll of his eyes.

_*Sherlock* _

Sherlock looked around the large, luxurious living room with narrowed eyes as the maid left and John arrived, taking in his surroundings.

"Nice, isn't it?" John asked and Sherlock made a small noise of agreement, taking off his coat and sitting on the sofa. John sat next to him and looked sideways at his flatmate who was looking around, making deductions before a throat was cleared behind them. Standing up, they both turned to find the woman from the pictures.

Angelina Lopez.

She looked a lot different from the pictures and John let his eyes look her up and down as Sherlock's stayed firmly looking into hers. Her long dark hair was intricately styled on the back of her head and her slim but sensual frame was covered in an extravagant red dress. With a smile of her blood red lips, which perfectly matched her dress, she sauntered over to where the two men were stood.

"So this is the elusive Sherlock Holmes." She says, standing in front of him with a smirk. "We meet at last." She says and Sherlock smiles slightly, tilting his head down to look at the woman in front of him.

"Angelina Lopez." He says and she smirks.

"Oh, you can call me Angel." She replies, looking him up and down quite obviously before looking up and tilting her head to the side with a slight pout on her lips. "I was expecting a reply to my text." She says and Sherlock raises an eyebrow.

"Hmm. I'm presuming my brother informed you of my visit." Sherlock says and John looks between the pair of them with confusion written on his face.

"Am I missing something here?" He asked but none of them turned to look at him, both of them refusing to look away from the others stare. "Mycroft sent us here, why would he tell her you were coming?" He asked and Sherlock looked over at John as Angelina smirked in victory.

"To get on her good side, obviously." Sherlock drawled as Angelina walked past him and sat down in the armchair, nodding her head to indicate that the two men should sit.

"Mycroft can't afford to be on my bad side, I can ruin him with a simple word." She says with a smirk, crossing her legs which pulled her dress up slightly, inevitably attracting the stares of the two men in front of her. "Tea?" She asked with a small smile and Sherlock nodded.

"Please." He replied and John wondered, once again, why Sherlock seemed to get on better with the obviously dangerous people.

"Maria!" She said loudly, not quite shouting, and the elderly maid entered the room quickly. "¿Puedes hacernos un poco de té, por favor?" She asked in fluent Spanish and the maid nodded and rushed out of the room.

"Hmmm. You're Spanish." Sherlock commented and Angelina smirked, tilting her head to the side with purposely wide eyes.

"Of course, Señor Holmes." She replies, leaning back slightly. "Although, from my conversations with Mycroft, I would've thought you'd know that the first time you laid eyes on me." She drawled in a manner which scarily reminded John of Sherlock.

"You and Mycroft talk about me?" Sherlock asks, changing the subject to Angelina's pleasure.

"Why of course! Your brother was the one who got me hooked into you." She admits as the door opens and Maria enters, placing a tray on a coffee table to the side and started preparing the tea for her mistress and her guests.

"Hmm." Was all Sherlock said as he leaned back, his eyes stuck on Angelina who just blinked at him with a blank face.

"Now, why don't you tell me why Mycroft sent you here." She said, blowing lightly to cool the tea as Maria handed both Sherlock and John a cup of tea. John accepted it, immediately taking a sip of the scalding tea whilst Sherlock looked at it with narrowed eyes, causing Angelina to chuckle.

"I haven't poisoned it." She says, taking a sip of her own tea as Sherlock looked at her.

"How did you know how we liked our tea?" He says and John looks down at his own tea.

"What kind of enemy would I be if I didn't research you?" She says with a smile and a tilt of her head.

"So, you're my enemy?" Sherlock asks, finally taking a sip of his tea.

"I don't see why not. Much more fun this way." She replies with a wink and Sherlock smirks.

"Indeed." He agrees and Angelina smirks. "I'm presuming this research of yours came from my dear brother." Sherlock says and Angelina shrugs.

"Partly. I do have my own sources you know." She says and Sherlock nods.

"And these sources..." He prompts and Angelina rolls her eyes.

"Oh, for someone so smart you can be quite dense." She says and Sherlock stiffens slightly before a loud bang came from upstairs. "Hmm. I wasn't expecting them." She says thoughtfully, looking at the ceiling with a blank expression, not at all looking frightened.

"Any idea who they are?" Sherlock asks, making no move and calmly drinking his tea.

"Quite a few. I'm not the most liked woman, I apparently know too much" She says with a roll of her eyes, crossing one leg over the other and looking the mirror image of Sherlock as footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs.

"Am I the only sane on here?" John finally burst out and Angelina and Sherlock look at him. "Someone has broke into your house - with guns! - and you're not even worried?" John says and Sherlock rolls his eyes.

"Of course she isn't." Sherlock rolls his eyes and the door bursts open, colliding loudly with the wall as two armed men forced their way into the room, their eyes focused on the calm Angelina.

"Two? I expected more than two." Sherlock says, looking at the men.

"Apparently I'm not a main matter of importance. I'm actually quite insulted they think that it will only take two men to kill me." Angelina remarks, putting down her cup of tea and folding her hands in her lap.

"Miss Lopez." One said in a thick American accent. "The President sends his regards... And apologies that he won't be here for your execution." He says and aims his gun at her.

"Is he still worried that I'll tell everyone?" Angelina asks and rolls her eyes. "Really, government today think they're so important." She says to Sherlock who nods in agreement.

"Huh. He said you liked to talk." The man said, walking closer to Angelina who smirked.

"Well, he's changed his tune. Last time we were together we didn't do much talking, if you know what I mean." She says with a wink and both men stiffen, releasing the safety switch and firing at their target who made absolutely no move.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

Two bullets hit the chair, knocking it back with the force they were shot at. Meanwhile, Sherlock had thrown himself over the sofa and grabbed the gun from one man's hand, pointing it at him before turning to the second and was shocked to find him on the floor, unconscious, Angelina holding his gun with a scowl.

"Now then, please tell your boss I'll be waiting for an apology." She says to the man in front of Sherlock who choked out a laugh.

"I don't think so. The aim was to kill you and you will be dead." He says and pulled back one side of his open jacket, showing a flashing bomb. Angelina and Sherlock looked at each other before he grabbed his coat, shouting John's name and following out Angelina who was already running out of the house.

As soon as the door closed behind Sherlock and John, they were thrown forward as the house behind them was blown to pieces. Standing up as soon as he knew it was safe, Sherlock stood up and looked around the quiet street as it was suddenly flooded with light from the houses up and down both sides of the street and cries and yells could be heard.

"What.. was that?" John panted, standing up with shaking legs as Sherlock looked around him for any sign of Angelina.

"Apparently the President doesn't want to be friends any more." A voice said to the left of them and they looked to see Angelina stood in the red dress which was now slightly ripped.

"You were expecting that." Sherlock commented and Angelina shrugged.

"As much as I was expecting your brother to send you to persuade me to be a good girl again." She says with a slight shiver as Sherlock and John walk up to her. Almost at once, Sherlock was out of his coat and holding it out to Angelina who smirked. "Such a gentleman." She remarked but took the coat and placed it around her body, the coat being much too big for her.

"And you don't want that." Sherlock said with a raised eyebrow and Angelina laughed before stepping forward and leaning up to his ear.

"Good girls play by the rules. And we both know that I have no intention of doing so." She whispered before leaning back down and smiling at him softly. "Until next time Mr Holmes. Dr Watson." She says, nodding at the both of them before walking away.

"Is that it?" Sherlock shouted after her but she carried on.

"Don't worry, I'll do what Mycroft wanted me to do!" She shouted back before turning around and blowing Sherlock a kiss with an amused smile on her face. "Hasta luego!" She says and turns back around as a long black Mercedes pulled up and the door opened.

Sherlock and John watched as Angelina obediently got into Mycroft's car, not saying anything as it drove away.

_*Sherlock* _

A week later Sherlock was laying on the sofa in 221B Baker Street, nicotine patches on his arm as John watched him, worried. It wasn't unusual for Sherlock to stop talking, lost in thought, but that was when he was on a case. And Sherlock was definitely _not _on a case. The fact that he had woken John by arguing with the TV - again - supported that.

As Sherlock closed his eyes, his phone started to vibrate, much to his annoyance.

"John." He prompted and John rolled his eyes but stood up and pulled the phone out of his blazer pocket which had been thrown over the desk earlier.

John put the phone to his ear, immediately recognizing Lestrade's voice and hoped that he had finally found Sherlock a case, anything to get his mind off Angelina who hadn't got into contact with Sherlock, much to his annoyance.

_"She still has my coat!" _He had complained when they had returned to the flat after Angelina had left with Mycroft. He had refused to text her, much to John's confusion, and ask for it back. He had said that he would be doing what she wanted and he was _not _going to give in to her. John, however, knew that Sherlock was interested in the woman who was anything but boring.

In John's eyes, they were perfect for each other.

"Sherlock." John finally said, a few seconds after he had ended the call to Lestrade and was unsure as to how to tell Sherlock.

"Yes?" He drawled, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"It was Lestrade." He said and Sherlock's eyes opened immediately and he jumped up, grabbing his blazer and putting on his scarf before stopping and taking it off again, realizing that he still didn't have his coat.

"Come on then!" He said over his shoulder, rushing down the stairs and calling for a taxi, leaving John to stumble behind him. As they got into the taxi, Sherlock turned to John who gave the taxi driver the location before turning to look at Sherlock.

"So what is it? Serial killer?" He asked eagerly and John looked down at his hands.

"No..." He answered and his eyes flickered up, seeing Sherlock's face fall as he sighed. "It's actually...they think it was a suicide." Sherlock's face brightened a little at that and John shook his head. "You know who it is..." John stuttered and Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"John, unless this is actually interesting then I'm going back to the flat." Sherlock drawled and John briefly closed his eyes.

"It's Angelina." He said and Sherlock's face turned blank. John watched as he turned to stare out the window and wondered what he was thinking. He knew that Angelina interested Sherlock and was seen as a puzzle he could solve, but he had no idea how her apparent suicide would affect him.

_*Sherlock* _

"Freak." Sally Donovan spat out as Sherlock moved under the crime scene tape. However, for once, Sherlock refused to reply and walked over to where Lestrade was stood over a very familiar body.

"What's up with him?" Sally asked John, nodding over to Sherlock who had bent down next to the body of Angelina.

"He knew her." John simply replied and walked over to where Sherlock was knelt, looking at Angelina. "Are you alright?" John asked and Sherlock looked over his shoulder at John with a raised eyebrow.

"As alright as ever." Sherlock replied, turning back to look at the bruised and bloodied body; the previously dark skin was lathered in blood and her obviously expensive clothes had been ruined, making the woman look so much different than the last time John had seen her.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade joined them from where he had been speaking to an officer and stood behind Sherlock who had grabbed Angelina's arm and was looking it up and down before moving her hair away from her face, looking at her features with fierce intensity that worried John. "Deducted anything?" He asked and Sherlock nodded, standing up.

"Of course." He says, moving his eyes to look at Lestrade. "She's twenty five years old and of Spanish heritage. A professional woman and was often involved with some of London's well known criminals. This wasn't suicide; a woman with a lot of leverage over some important people would be a target. She was pushed. And this, isn't the real her." He says, walking away as John and Lestrade watched him.

"Sherlock." John groaned and ran after him. "That's Angelina." John said, knowing with complete certainty that the dead woman behind them was Angelina Lopez.

"No, it isn't." Sherlock said, stopping and turning to look at the shorter doctor. "Angelina Lopez is a difficult woman to kill, Mycroft has tried often enough." Before John could argue, Donovan appeared between them.

"Might interest you to know we found this on the roof." She said, holding out a long grey coat which the pair immediately recognized. "Funny that. A woman has apparently been pushed, according to your recent 'deductions' and your coat is found at the crime scene." She said with a raised eyebrow. Sherlock ignored the woman, taking the coat and instantly going into the pockets, pulling out a piece of paper and a phone.

"That's her." Sherlock said, crumbling the paper in one hand and throwing it away from him. He put the phone back in the pocket and walked away, calling for a taxi and immediately getting in without waiting for John.

"Not suspicious at all." Donovan said sarcastically before turning to to John. "I'd be careful if I was you, that might be you one day." She said and turned around to stand with Anderson.

With another roll of his eyes, John walked over to pick up the piece of paper that Angelina had obviously left and Sherlock wanted to get rid of.

_Thought you might want this back, Mr Holmes. _

_AL x _


	4. Chapter 4

4.

The soft melody coming from upstairs was a large concern for both Mrs Hudson and John. It had been exactly a month since the death of Angelina Lopez and whilst Sherlock was acting as emotionless and unaffected by anyone's death as always, John knew that Angelina was a greater loss than he let on. Whilst the two hadn't known each other for very long (well Sherlock didn't know Angelina for very long) it seemed that her apparent suicide had more affect than he was letting on. Going by the fact that had been searching for anyone who could've pushed her, John knew that he was missing Angelina.

"Should someone check in him?" Mrs Hudson asked as the haunting song from upstairs suddenly stopped and no more noise could be heard; they both look up at the ceiling as if they could see Sherlock himself.

"I'll go." John said, heading towards the stairs and listening to make sure that no one had broke in to attack Sherlock.

As he reached the living room, he found Sherlock looking out the window, still in his pajamas and dressing gown.

"Sherlock?" John asked hesitantly, aware of Sherlock's hate of talking when he was thinking. "You alright?"

"John, get my phone." Sherlock said instead of answering John's question, not taking his eyes from whatever had caught his attention outside. John shook his head at his flatmate but did as he said - ordered more like - and handed Sherlock his phone from where it had been in his coat pocket. Sherlock immediately started typing and John waited patiently for him to turn around and explain. It took him a full minute before he did and a smirk had found it's way onto his lips.

"What's up?" John asked and Sherlock chuckled, shaking his head and replying to whatever text he had just received.

"Nothing." Sherlock replied and walked away, leaving John to watch after him as he made his way into his bedroom. It took thirty minutes before he left his room, fully dressed and talking to Lestrade about a case that he was supposed to have solved weeks ago.

John had no idea who had made Sherlock better with a few simple texts, but he knew that it was a good thing. A moping, depressed Sherlock was worse than a bored Sherlock.

_*Sherlock*_

_Look to your left_

_Mycroft Holmes_

John rolled his eyes but looked to his left, and sure enough Mycroft's black Mercedes was parked on the left of where he was stood. Taking his card from the cash machine, he left the queue and got into the car without hesitation and smiled at Anthea, or whatever she was called today.

Half an hour later, John was once again sat in Mycroft's office with his legs crossed as Mycroft sat opposite him.

"So, what's the matter this time and why isn't Sherlock here?" John asked, leaning back slightly in his chair and ignoring the vibration of his phone in his pocket, knowing that it would be from Sherlock.

"How is my brother?" Mycroft asked instead.

"Fine."

"Really?" The smirk on Mycroft's face told John that he knew just how Sherlock was. "He seems a little distraught over the death of Miss Lopez considering he knew her for approximately ten minutes." He drawled before leaning forward slightly. "How is my brother?" He asked again and John sighed.

"Terrible." Was all John said and Mycroft leaned backwards, looking up at the ceiling with a calculating face. "He isn't eating, sleeping and is constantly playing his violin." He said and Mycroft looked at him again.

"And now is that any different as to how Sherlock usually is?" John took a deep breath before looking Mycroft in the eye.

"He turned down a case." Mycroft momentarily looked stunned before skillfully turning his face blank, standing up and turning to look out the window with his back facing John. He was silent for a few moments and John looked longingly at the door, wanting to leave but also wanting to know if Mycroft would help his brother.

"I think... It's time I speak to my brother." He finally said, turning back to John who nodded slowly.

"Alright." John said, standing up and Mycroft walked to his desk.

"Do make sure he'll be ready to speak to me tomorrow morning." He said, looking at some papers on his desk as John walked out if the office until he made his way outside the building to where Mycroft's car was waiting for him. However, what attracted his attention was the tallish figure who was leaning against a sleek red car.

"Doctor Watson." She greeted him as he made his way over to her, stopping in front of her with his anger barely concealed.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be dead!" John said loudly, not quite shouting and the woman in front of him scoffed.

"Really darling, did you think I was so easy to kill?" Angelina Lopez scoffed, taking the dark sunglasses off her face and looking at him with amused eyes.

"Now come along, Mr Holmes will be waiting." She smirked, getting in the car. John froze, his thoughts racing before he made up his mind and quickly jumped into the passenger seat.

_*Sherlock*_

_Dinner? I'll bring your coat x_

_Goodnight Señor Holmes x_

_Shall I take you ignoring me as a bad sign? x _

_As much as I love the coat, are you sure you don't want it back? x_

_It's a little cold, you only have to ask x _

Sherlock flicked through the texts he had received what seemed like a long time ago. When Angelina Lopez was alive.

He didn't know why he was acting like this. He didn't even know the woman! But she had been... A puzzle. And Sherlock Holmes never could resist a puzzle.

Looking out the window into the street below, Sherlock contemplated the enigma that was Angelina Lopez.

She was smart. That much was clear. She made commented that she could ruin Mycroft (and anyone who could do that was was considered a good person in his book) and she held a lot of power overthrow man who was basically the government. She was capable of manipulation, something he was good at himself, and that made her easy to get along with.

The only suitable comparison Sherlock could come up with to describe her was fire. She was like fire. She burned bright and dangerous and was capable of drawing someone in, even the elusive Sherlock Holmes. He could hear John in the back of his mind as though he was stood beside him: _"Opposites attract!" _he would say and laugh at Sherlock's misfortunes over a simple woman.

But she wasn't simple. She was Angelina Lopez. She was fire. The fire to his ice. She was bright in ways where he was cool and he knew that, if she was still alive, they would've been capable of a lot. He smirked at the trouble they could've caused Mycroft.

"Sherlock!" Ignoring John's shout, Sherlock continued staring out the window even as he heard the door to the living room open. "Sherlock, there's someone here to see you."

"If it's Lestrade tell him that it wasn't possible for the sister to have killed him." He drawled in a bored voice before raising an eyebrow as a pair if footsteps could be heard. And it definitely wasn't John walking towards him, unless he had suddenly started wearing high heels.

"Well, such a welcome." Turning around he looked down onto the smirking Angelina who raised an eyebrow. "I could really do with a cup of tea, flying dies take a lot out of me."

And for once, Sherlock Holmes said nothing. Instead, he turned and walked into the kitchen, flicking the switch of the kettle on his way.


End file.
